Why, nothing now but lonely sit
And over-read what I have writ.
Similar Posts
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry,
If so be you ask me whereThey do grow? I answer, thereWhere my Julia’s lips do smile;–There’s the land, or cherry-isle;Whose plantations fully showAll the year where cherries grow.
So Good-Luck came, and on my roof did light,
Not all at once, but gently,- as the treesAre by the sun-beams, tickled by degrees.
Hapcot! To thee the Fairy State
Because thou prizest things that areCurious, and un-familiar.Take first the feast; these dishes gone,We’ll see the Fairy Court anon.A little mushroon table spread,After short prayers, they set on bread;A moon-parched grain of purest wheat,With some small glit’ring grit, to eatHis choice bits with; then in a triceThey make a feast less great than nice.But all…
Born I was to be old,
After that, in the mouldLong for to lie here.But before that day comes,Still I be bousing;For I know, in the tombsThere’s no carousing.
Clear are her eyes,
Discovering from thenceA baby thereThat turns each sphere,Like an Intelligence.
Down with the rosemary and bays,
Instead of holly, now up-raiseThe greener box, for show.The holly hitherto did sway;Let box now domineer,Until the dancing Easter-day,Or Easter’s eve appear.Then youthful box, which now hath graceYour houses to renew,Grown old, surrender must his placeUnto the crisped yew.When yew is out, then birch comes in,And many flowers beside,Both of a fresh and fragrant kin,To…